Hold the Roses (12 page)

He was wonderful to talk to, plus he had a great sense of humor. I
found myself laughing a lot and really falling for this guy. But with all the
talk, he said nothing about going out or seeing one another after the Terrace Room.

Finally he said, "You know Gene Krupa opens Wednesday?" (I was to
close Tuesday.)

I said, "Yes."

He asked, "Do you want to go to the opening?"

I said, "I'd love to."

He said, "How are you coming into town?"

I told him, "I'll get my father's car and pick you up at Schribman's
and we'll go to the Terrace Room. Then, when we leave, I'll drop you off at
Schribman's and I'll go back home to Jersey."

He said, "That's great! Think your father will mind?"

I said, "I'll talk to my mother."

Of course, I was thrilled-I had a date with Bobby! My father drove
me down closing night and picked up the check... as always. He saw me
sitting with Bobby, but didn't say anything.

After the second show, I said good night to Rudy and told Bobby,
"I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

He said, "Okay."

I said, "Give me your phone number at Schribman's, just in case
something comes up."

He gave me the number-he already had my phone number, so that
was that. Going home, my father didn't say anything about Bobby. I don't
think he even noticed. The only time he said anything was if I went out
with some guy three times. Then he'd say, "What's goin' on?"

I would say, "It's just a date, nothing serious," and that would calm
him down.

That night when we got home, I told my mother about Bobby. I
didn't say a word about how I felt, just told her about him, Kay Kyser and
all that. I mentioned I had a date with him to go to the opening of Gene
Krupa and that I needed the car tomorrow night.

She said, "Ask your father."

I said, "No, he won't give it to me. You just tell him I need the car
tomorrow night, please mother."

She said, "All right."

I couldn't sleep at all. I really felt so funny and I said to myself, "I
guess I'm in love. I never thought it would feel this way. It was like somebody hit me on the head and it hurt!"

The next day, I was all thumbs. I couldn't wait for six o'clock. I got
ready, got in the car. . .with my father's words in my head, "Be careful with
the car." Not "Have a good time," or anything like that. My mother always
said, "Home by midnight." By the way, I never had a key to the house.
"Only whores have keys," my father said, "Why would you be afraid to
knock?" Therefore, no key.

I drove over the George Washington Bridge and went down to 57th
Street, to his apartment. There was Bobby, waiting for me outside. I pulled
up in front, he came around and I moved over to the passenger seat so he
could drive. He smiled and got in. Years later he told me that really impressed him that I would let him drive. (I don't know why!)

Driving to the Terrace Room took about half an hour. During that
half hour, he said, "I've got to talk to you. It's important."

I thought, Oh my God, he's going to end this! He can't! I know he loves
me. Ii . ust know it. He never said it, but I just know it.

He went on to say that he didn't know when he would get discharged
from the army. His life was in California, not New York, and he knew that
all my work was in the East. He knew that he would get his job back, but
not make the money he made before the war. Kay's band had broken up,
but he had the same musicians doing the radio show only-he said he
really didn't know too much about that, but he would find out when he
got back to California. He planned to go back and asked if I would stick it
out and wait. Would I go with him to California when he got out?

I looked at him, smiled and said, "Yes!"

That was my proposal of marriage!

Bobby and I went out quite a lot. We went to the opening of Harry James
at the Astor Hotel. We'd see a Broadway show, go to movies, eat Chinese
food. I met Joe Schribman and always saw four or five guys in uniform up
at the apartment. It was a hangout for musicians in the army who were
stationed close to New York. I learned another part of the biz: musicians
and music. Who played in what band, who was good, who was all right,
and so on. Another notch in my education.

One night we went to see the Claude Thornhill Orchestra (he was
managed by Schrib) and I dropped Bobby off at the apartment on my way
home. Before he got out of the car, he leaned over and kissed me ... finally.
He backed away and just looked at me.

I asked him, "What's the matter?"

He said, "Either you're giving me the greatest line, or you're the dumbest thing I've ever met."

I said, "What's wrong? Why did you say that?"

"Go home, it's late," he replied. "Call me when you get home."

I thought, Its over. What did I do wrong? I just kissed him. Why did he
say that? It took him two weeks to kiss me in the first place. Maybe I shouldn't
have let him kiss me.

I couldn't wait to get home. As soon as I got in the door, I called him
and asked, "What's wrong?"

He said, "Nothing, sweetheart, I just love you very much."

Whew! I guess it wasn't that I wasn't a good kisser! Anyway, I was in
heaven. He said he loved me! By now my father was getting suspicious, and I tried to avoid him as much as possible. I didn't want to start anything. I was to open at the Capitol Theater in three days and I wanted
everything to stay calm.

The night before I was to open, we rehearsed in the basement of the
theater. The full orchestra was there. I handed out the music. My father
was with me, of course, and Mark Warnow seemed very annoyed with me,
that he had to rehearse me. I only did three songs and the Durante number
and "Chena Luna"-an Italian folk song-with a few little jokes in between. I was done in an hour. We went home and I started to pack the new
gowns and get my makeup and stuff ready for the theater the next day.

My first show was at 11:20 A.M. We were doing five shows a day. The
first show Mark Warnow introduced me: "Here's a young lady I know
you'll enjoy... Miss Rose Marie." I stopped the show, completely brought
the house down. Warnow was staring at me with his mouth open. I guess
he was surprised!

Second show. Introduction: "Here's a young lady who is a great singer.
I know you'll love her. Miss Rose Marie." I stopped the show again.

By the fifth show, I got the longest introduction in the world: "Here's
a young lady, a great performer, a great singer, one of the best in our biz.
You'll thrill to her songs," on and on and on. God, I thought I'd never get
on the stage! But I hold the record at the Capitol. I stopped every showone hundred and forty of 'em!

Bobby came over to the theater a lot. We'd go out for lunch or just
walk in between shows. One day, we were sitting at a little restaurant right
across the street from the Capitol and I noticed three guys with a long
ladder leaning up against the marquee. Mark Warnow's name was in big
letters. Ethel Smith's name was in big letters. My name was half as big. We
watched these guys as they took my little lettered name down and put it up
in big letters-as big as the others. Wow! Talk about getting goose pimples!

My social life was at a standstill because I was doing five shows a day.
Somehow, Bobby came to the theater. At least I got to see him every day.

One day, the phone rang in my dressing room and the voice said,
"This is George Abbot's office. Mr. Abbot would like you to come to his
office. He wants to talk to you."

I was as bad as my brother. I said, "Oh sure, and I'm the Queen of
England," and hung up.

A few minutes later the phone rang again. I answered it and the voice
said, "Listen, this is George Abbot and I want to talk to Rose Marie right now."

"Hello, Mr. Abbot," I said. "This is Rose Marie."

He said, "I know you're doing five shows a day, but could you come
up to my office in between shows?"

I told him, "I can be there about three o'clock today."

"Fine," he said.

So after the second show, I went to George Abbot's office. It brought
back memories of when I had been there when I was fourteen. I had gone
to see Abbot about a part in Best Foot Forward -the road company, no less!
The secretary hadn't let me get past the little gate between the office and the
secretary's little cubicle. I did the old movie bit: "I'll be back one of these
days, and you'll open the gate for me!" I had to laugh as I thought about it.

Sure enough, I walked in and the girl said, "Hello," and opened the
gate for me. I never said a word, I just smiled.

I went into his office. He was sitting behind the desk and had two
scripts, one in each hand.

I said, "Hello, Mr. Abbot."

He said, "Glad to meet you. I want to tell you something, young
lady. I have been to the Capitol almost every day at different times. In the
morning, in the afternoon and evening-and you stopped every show. I
have never seen anything like that."

"Thank you," I said.

He then took the two scripts and said, "I'm doing two shows-which
one do you want?"

I said, "That's very kind of you, Mr. Abbot, and thank you for your
generous offer. You have no idea how much this means to me, But I'm
going to do the new Milton Berle show, Spring in Brazil.

He said, "Oh! I'm too late. Well, if you change your mind, let me
know. One show is called Billion Dollar Baby and the other is Christopher
Columbus with Willie Howard."

Mitzi Green ended up doing Billion Dollar Baby. It was a two-year
smash. The Chris Columbus show never saw the light of day.

When the Capitol run was over, I started rehearsals for Spring in
Brazil with Milton Berle. Phil Rapp, who wrote most of the Danny Kaye
movies, wrote the script, and Robert Wright and Chet Forrest wrote the
lyrics and music. They had just won awards for Song ofNorway. Lee Schubert
and Monte Prosner were the producers. How could it go wrong? Milton
did a show called The Ziegfeld Follies. It was just all right, but he kept it
going for two years.

How could it go wrong? Easy. Milton and I got along great. He almost talked in shorthand to me because he knew I knew what he meant.
He taught me so much! Things were going well. Bobby came to rehearsals
a lot, he met Berle and the two of them hit it off.

By now my father knew something was up with Bobby. Our names
were in the columns as a new couple. You know, "We hear wedding bells,"
and so on. I knew this was bothering my father.

One night Bobby picked me up after rehearsal. I called home and
told my mother that Bobby and I were going to dinner and maybe a movie,
so I would be a little late.

She asked, "Is Bobby going to bring you home?"

I said, "Yes, we'll take the Orange/Black bus and he will walk me to
the house." (It was only about two blocks away from the bus stop.)

We had dinner, saw a movie; by the time we were finished, it was
11:30. I knew we'd never get home at midnight. Sure enough, by the time
we got off the bus, it was 12:15. We raced up the block. I knocked on the
door.